What Dreams We Have Been Watching
by Grayling
Summary: Van Hohenheim wakes up in a world where he's a State Alchemist, and proceeds to make a mess of things.


Another day alone. He lets out a long breath, crouching down to get his nightly fire going, trying to push aside the light brushing of the consciousness of those who want to talk to him. Concern, that's what they're feeling, for him. He knows who they are, and as much as he loves them, the last thing he wants to do is speak to the slave children tonight. It's too depressing. They'll want him to sing to them, and he'd rather just wallow in misery being as alone as he can in such a crowded body.

He settles down by the fire, rubbing his hands together, holding them out to the flame. He's so cold. He doesn't want to do this anymore. He wants to go home, but he's far from Xerxes. He's far from his family in Resembool. He sighs, crawling down to lay against the ground, throwing an arm over his head, and closes his eyes. Tomorrow was another day.

The flames die down as he sleep, the turn of the earth ever present. Light hits his eyelids, and golden eyes open to golden light. A tiny body moves against him. Shocked, he shift back from it, only to hear a grunt from behind him, before a loud complaint pierces the air.

"DAD! Get your fat ass off of me! Go sit on Alphonse!"

The hell? He shifts again, careful not to bump into the first moving body, looking behind him. The fuzzy blob of blond hair comes into sight, and the unmistakable glint of golden eyes. He glances in front of him, and the child his arms are around looks up at him, a tired pout on his lips. Oh. He's dreaming. He reaches up to adjust his glasses, hitting himself in the face.

He must have looked startled, Alphonse's little hands reaching up to hold his cheeks. Edward is grumbling to himself, fumbling with something behind him. A moment of silence before his glasses get dropped on his face, Alphonse pushing them on before he can even reach up and do it himself. He smiles slightly, though he reaches up to push up his glasses to rub at his eyes, dropping them back in place. A soft clink and he looks up, a glittering gold object in the air before his nose. Edward is standing over him on the bed, glaring down at him.

He takes it, looking at it to see the dragon of Amestris on it, small text on it. 'State Alchemist' it reads at the top, "Van Hohenheim" at the bottom. But—Wasn't the watch supposed to be _silver?_ He doesn't have time to ask before Edward places his hands on his hips.

"Come on, old man. You're not seriously going off to work without feeding us, are you? Get up!"

He's so angry… He frowns a little, though he sits up, Alphonse still dozing in his arms, hands having fallen from his face to curl in the loose pajama shirt he was wearing. He reaches up to push back his loose hair, irritating him as it's resting on the back of his neck. He's about to pull it up, hold it until he can tie it up. Before he can even attempt it, he feels his hair shifting, glancing to see, once again, Edward's already working on braiding up his hair, that angry look still on his face.

He's quiet, noticing that the boys are bigger than when he had left them. Their faces are no longer as soft as he remembers. He doesn't get a lot of time to reflect as Edward's tiny but nimble hands are fast and finish quickly, and soon are shoving on his back, pushing the old man to stand up.

"Right. I know. Breakfast." He yawns, reaching up to rub at his eyes again. "'m washing my face first, if that's alright with you Ed. Where's Trisha… Where's your mom?"

Edward doesn't say anything, but Alphonse cowers into him, burying his face in his loose shirt, tiny shoulders starting to shake. Edward hops off the bed, pulling open the door slowly, before dashing out of it, yelling as he does.

"Wash your face! I'll get out what we're eating for breakfast, so all you'll have to is cook it, you lazy old geezer!"

He'd snap back something to the child, but he's busy soothing the boy in his arms, lifting him up to his shoulder to rub his back, stepping out of the room as he does so. Golden eyes sweep the hall, only to realize that… He doesn't know where he is. He's never been here before. This is not their house in Resembool. He hears sounds coming down from one end of the hall, and the other has a few doors. He opens one, only to find some random objects on the shelves. He ruffles through them for a moment, but he doesn't seem to find anything that's odd or out of place.

He does find his eyeliner, however. He wonders why he'd have stuck it here, even if this is a dream. There's the family photo, too. He leaves it where it is for now, deciding to open up the other doors. He finds the room he needs, the new pluming and faucets gleaming in the light of the new day. He reaches out, playing with turning the water on and off for a moment, before Alphonse squirms in his arms, finally waking up enough to want down. He complies, but as soon as he's down, he's trying to play with the water too, but he's too short. A smile falls onto his face, and he places Alphonse up on the counter instead, placing his glasses on Alphonse's head, letting his boy hold them and play with the water as he splashes his face, drying it off before starting to outline his eyes.

He doesn't get very far when he notices Alphonse is staring at him. He pauses, smiling at him. He finishes up the line, before coming to crouch down in front of him, tilting his head at him. Alphonse frowns for a moment, before also tilting his head.

"Dad, why'd you do that?"

"I think it looks nice." He smiles, taking his glasses back, sliding them up on the bridge of his large nose. "Do you want me to do yours?"

Alphonse stares for a little while more, before nodding, almost instantly shaking his head afterwards.

"No, it's okay. It does look nice. You look…"

He doesn't get to finish his thought as his brother is screeching down the hall for them, but… Hohenheim could have sworn that Alphonse had said something about their mother. Before he could ask Alphonse what he meant, the boy is already out the door as well, and he has no choice but to follow. Edward had really done a lot of prep work for breakfast. The child had turned on the stove, set a pan to heating, and is currently finishing up cutting up vegetables.

When Edward had said he was getting out food to cook, he had assumed that he meant eggs and bacon, and while that's out too, there's no less than three different vegetables cut up almost perfectly. He rubs the back of his neck, before getting to the actual cooking that Edward laid out for him. He thanks the boy, but he only gets a hard shrug in response, Edward jumping off the chair he's on to grab Alphonse's hand, dragging him back down the hall.

"You know you're supposed to get him dressed, Dad! You need to get ready too"

"Aw, Ed! You know he's slow in the morning…"

"Yeah, like your lazy ass. You're always napping until he puts you down."

"Daaaaad! Ed swooorree."

"Aaugh! Don't rat me out!"

He laughs at the exchange, shaking his head as he watches the food, calling back down the hall after the boys.

"Ed, you don't have an indoor voice. I heard you in here. Don't call your brother a lazy ass, even if he is."

"DAD!"

Both of the boys sound abjectly horrified, but in a little while, the soft tinkling of laughter makes its way down the hall, causing him to smile. He plates the food, setting it out on the little table, noticing that there are only three chairs. Where is Trisha…? The boys come out again, dressed and faces washed… He frowns for a second, before remembering the stool that had been in the bathroom. So Alphonse was just playing cute, it seemed. Well, he doesn't blame him.

Edward seems pleased with what he did with breakfast, hopping up on his chair and ravenously attacking the pile of food before him, not even waiting for his father to set his cup of water in front of him, the only one getting milk being Alphonse. He ends up having to break up two sword fights between the boys as he tries to eat his food. Finally, they get through breakfast. As soon as they're done, Edward's pouting at him again.

"You're still in your underwear! Dad! You can't go to work like that!"

He widens his eyes a little at that, a little bit of confusion in his eyes. Work? Him? Edward seems to be getting angry, so he holds up his hands, trying to appease him.

"Y-yeah you're right. What about the dishes, though…"

"Me and Ed do them after breakfast, Dad. You do them after dinner. We laid out your clean uniform for you today, you can't use the old one until you get it cleaned."

He smiles at Alphonse, who smiles back at him, though Ed only pouts more, collecting the dishes. He leaves them to it, rubbing the back of his neck. The uniform is on the bed, messy still but the attempt had been made to clean it up, the uniform being crisp and clean and blue. Not knowing what else to, he struggles into it. It's not as bad as it could be, he supposes. He looks nice enough.

The watch…. He doesn't know what to do with it. He slips it into his pocket, hooking the shining chain like he had seen the few state alchemists he had met do. The gold chain… Well, he wasn't REALLY a State Alchemist was he? This was… Just a part of a nap. This had to be one of the most intense dreams he ever had though…. He lets out a long breath. He decides to fix the bed while he's here, however, there was no need to be sloppy even in a fantasy.

Now that he's dressed, he goes out to his boys, already sitting by the front door with their book bags. Oh, it looked like they had school to attend to. Disappointing. He wanted to spend more time with them, but he hold his hands out for them. Alphonse is quick to take it, while Edward is slow, and doesn't look at him as his hand lands in his father's. Alphonse opens the door for them, and they're off.

It takes him a while to realize where they are, pretty much just letting the children guide him on here they would like to go. They're not in Resembool, that was obvious, a big city, but it takes him a while to realize… They're in Central. They're in the heart of everything. A low fear is starting to creep up on him. Why is he here? Where is Trisha? He doesn't understand. Alphonse seems to notice his distress, squeezing his hand to grab his attention, tugging on it to get him to bend down so that he can whisper in his ear.

"Hey Dad, do you remember where you work today? Be honest."

He flushes a little, embarrassment creeping up the back of his neck, and he shakes his head slightly. Alphonse points, trying to be discreet about it, obviously not trying to embarrass his dad any further.

"It's lab 3 okay? That's where you need to be after we're in school. I know it's been rough for you this morning, more so than usual… you don't usually forget about mom… So I wanted…"

Wanted to make sure. He nods, pressing a kiss to Alphonse's temple before straightening up, picking the pace back up to normal. Forget about mom? Trisha? But he hasn't forgot about her, has he? Could it be, that… Trisha is dead?

That would explain a lot. That would explain everything. Well, not everything. He is in Amestrian blue, after all, a gold watch that shouldn't exist with his name on it. But the rest of it? Yeah. Alphonse had asked about his eyeliner because he hadn't worn it since Trisha died… but… Wait, that didn't make any sense either. Why wouldn't he wear his eyeliner? So Trisha being dead doesn't explain anything after all?

He chews on the question as they walk, but soon enough, they're at the boys school, the trimmed hedges in the yard looking neat and inviting, and he looks at it for a long moment. The boys seem to be waiting too, looking up at him expectantly. He stares back down at them.

"Well… Are you going to kiss us goodbye or not?!"

Edward is frowning deeply, even if he's trying to act like he doesn't care about getting said goodbye to or not. Hohenheim can only let out a soft noise of amusement, bending down to press a kiss to his cheek.

"Also, since I gave Alphonse one earlier…"

He presses a kiss to his other cheek. Edward returns the gesture, before taking off ahead of his bother, arms crossed high over his head. Hohenheim makes another amused sound, turning to Alphonse and kissing him as well, the boy also returning the kiss.

"Don't worry, Dad. I'm sure you'll feel better this evening. I love you."

He blinks slowly down at his son, a smile on his lips.

"Thank you. I love you too. Keep an eye on your brother for me, okay?"

Alphonse grins up at him, before giving a sharp nod, running off after Edward.

He stands up, watching them enter the school with a gaggle of other children for a moment, that same smile still stuck on his face. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees something for a moment, and he turns to look. It's just a black haired child, strangely pale. He grins for a moment and walks off, away from the school. intrigued, Hohenheim starts to follow him, trying to reach out with his qi sense to try to figure out what was so strange about this child.

He stops as a bell starts to toll, and he looks up, realizing that it was the school's bell. By the time he looks back, the child is gone, and with him the strange uneasy familiar feeling. Oh well. He lets out a sigh, hands going into his pockets. It looks like he'll have to get to lab three. He's studied Amestris' maps of Central to at least have a good idea of where that might be from here, so at least he wasn't totally dicked over.

Heck, he's studied the maps so well he can practically name all the major cities in Amestris. He shakes his head at the thought, looking around for a moment to decide where he was, before heading off to work. The thought makes him laugh slightly. Who'd have thought that he'd dream up a situation where he's indirectly employed to the thing he's tying to kill. Ah well, at least it's interesting.

He makes it in rather good time, his feet finding the way easily. As if he's done this a million times before. He nods at the guards at the gate, not really knowing what else to do. One nods back, and the gate opens for him. He steps inside, jumping as the gate clangs closed behind him. He looks behind him, seeing the faint glitter of coins changing hands. Great, they bet on wither he jumps or not at the loud sound.

He glowers at them for a second, and they see him. They straighten up and salute him, the coins that had changed hands getting dropped and rolling away. He just rolls his eyes, deciding just to go inside already. He's greeted by a lady with a clipboard, who hands him a white coat and a stream of information and numbers about… Experiments that were being run?

A strange realization comes over him, even as he's pulling on the coat, glancing at the data on the board he was handed after the spill. He's…. Running this lab. Like his master back in Xerxes. The next realization is that he doesn't know shit about what's going on. Who's idea was this anyway, to put him in charge of anything? He continues to stare at the clipboard, about to dismiss it but—

A failed experiment catches his eye and he points at it, turning it around to show the lady.

"Either the parameters were mislabeled here, or they had a chemical imbalance that doomed it to fail. Unless they were trying to get it to fail."

She looks over it for a moment, before taking it, shaking her head. She marks it, before marking it on her own clipboard.

"No sir. That was one of ones I needed you to review. That would explain the… Interesting result."

He snorts. He can imagine. An error like that might even have been enough to cause a recoil, and that was never a fun time. He takes his clipboard back, waving her along with him as he starts walking.

"I'll need to review some of the research notes stored here before I get to the rest of these. You can't expect me to know everything."

He flashes a slight grin, and he's rewarded with a slight laugh and a shake of her head.

"I thought that was the only reason why you got the job, sir."

Probably true. He nods a little, about to turn down a hall. She gently stops him, nodding forward.

"Your office has the folders you need."

"Oh. Right, thank you."

She nods, flipping open to a page on her clipboard, before nodding again.

"Yes. As soon as you're done, please meet with the researchers in 3b. That would be binder six-ten you want to review for them. I've got a meeting I need to be at, but you have it from here?"

He lets out a slow breath, before nodding. She takes his clipboard, marking the information, before handing it back to him. She leaves him, and he continues forward, finding the door with his name on it. The walls are filled with books and binders. Oh boy, this looked like hell. He find the binder that he needed, opening it up. Like expected, it's Amestrian. He sighs. However, he sees his handwriting, neat and orderly in Xerxean, translating the context of the binder.

At least he had the foresight to translate these for rereads. Though… There seems to be a strange pattern in the word usage. Words that have two meanings are common in this writing, but the forced context demand that the words have their more widespread meaning. Very strange as there was an easier way of writing it, but it does seem the duel words are closer to the Amestrian meaning. He finishes looking through it, standing up to take it with him. Out of curiosity, he checks another binder, and yes, the strange pattern continues. He'll have to look at that more later, he supposes. As much as he'd like to puzzle out each new mystery as it shows up, he'd much rather get to the end of the day and see his sons again for a bit longer.

The group of researchers he was asked to visit are rather boring. He gets the gist of what they're trying to do, transport an object from one transmutation circle to another. The process that they come up with is flawed, deconstructing it on one end, reconstructing it on the other. They get into a fight about if that's really 'transporting' something if it's actually something new all together on the other end. They squabble about it for a while, before he gives up entirely, deciding to just leave them to it.

It occurs to him that this was probably an argument that he's had with them before. It would be easier to use alchestry instead and skip the first step of having the object to 'transport'. He shoves his hands in his pockets, deciding to go back to his office and relax there until he can go home. He doesn't know what's going on anyway. Maybe read up on all the book he's got in there.

When he gets to his office, he finds someone waiting for him. The soft brown hair, the curve of her neck, it sends a shock through him as he realizes that it's Trisha! His breath catches in his throat as he rushes over to her, stopping as he feels the strange aura that had been around that little boy he had seen before. It's familiar. The souls inside him are agitated too, slipping over themselves and trying to push toward him. Trisha turns to look at him, a cruel smile on her lips.

"What? You actually thought I was her? Hah! You really are a human, aren't you Hohenheim?"

He doesn't know how to reply to that, confusion swirling around in his head. This was a dream after all. He had thought for a moment that this could actually be real. That all of this, was more than that. As he's standing there, he sees a shadow creep up on Trisha's face, before it bites her, causing her to start swearing.

"PRIDE! What the hell was that for?!"

"Father told you not to tease him."

There are alchemical sparks blossoming over her face, spreading over her figure before there's a cropped topped figure with an impressive amount of hair, a pout on their lips.

"Fine, fine. He didn't mind it, did ya Hohenheim?"

He still doesn't say anything, staring at the display, utterly confused on what is going on. The shadow opens up a ruby eye, watching him back. It bites the shapeshifter again, before staring to pull back.

"Father's waiting. Bring him to us."

"Ugh, of COURSE I get fetch and carry duty with the humorless old man."

If Pride heard, he didn't say anything, leaving Hohenheim and the creature alone. He's trying to think, trying to come up with an explanation for what just happened. A word, over and over again is racing through his mind. Homunculus. Homunculus. Confusion had fallen away to pure terror, the feeling of being so under prepared to deal with something, and just like a trap being closed, it snaps him up in moment.

Central. The heart of everything. He had woken up into a noose, only now seeing it tightening around his neck. He doesn't have a lot of time to panic, however, the homunculus already nonchalantly moving towards… Somewhere. He pauses, waiting for Hohenheim to start fallowing him, looking over his shoulder with an annoyed expression. He has no choice but to follow, unsure of what is about to happen. A book case in his office swings open, and for a moment he's not sure what to think.

If he's got an entrance to the secret lair or whatever, why send a lackey? Hell, if he thought he was doing piss all here, then he can't really blame this shapeshifter for feeling frustrated, even if the Trista thing was a low blow. As if reading his thoughts, the shapeshifter scoffs as they walk, frowning deeply.

"I don't enjoy carting you around, you know. If Father didn't think you were some hot shot _human_ or philosopher's stone or something I wouldn't even do this. Tsk. If I wanted to babysit I'd hang out with Gluttony."

Pride, Gluttony… Unbelievable. These are the homunculus' children. Well, he'd wager, parts of himself, anyway. It can be assumed that there would be seven… The sins. If he had to guess which one this one is…

"Careful Envy. You're starting to sound like you might be Sloth."

He grins, only for Envy to give him an angry glance, a frown on those features.

"Oh ha ha, hilarious. The same way that I might be your dead wife, right? You might say it's a _talent."_

So bitter. Not that he's in any way sorry for it. That's on Envy, after all. He holds his silence for the rest of the way, as does Envy. He's dreading what he's going to find at the end of the tunnel, dreading seeing… him.. Again. Especially right now, right now when he doesn't know what's going on or why he's here where he's here.

The room opens up suddenly, bright light streaming in from… somewhere to illuminate the cavern, the center of the room being absolutely brilliant to the point where it's hurting his eyes for a moment. As they adjust, he sees a figure on the chair, and just like all those many years ago, the fright of realizing that it's _himself_ that he's looking at, shocks him. The figure opens his eyes, the monochrome palette of the man taking a moment to register on Hohenheim's senses.

He wants to run so badly, go somewhere else and forget that this person existed. He glances over at Envy, who seems to be noticing his discomfort and reveling in it. He looks back to the Homunculus, only to see that he has stood up, the slight hiss of machines disconnecting.

"Thank you, Envy. That will be quite enough. You may leave us."

The sin does as he's told, though Hohenheim hears a slight scoff from those lips all the same. He doesn't see the expression, eyes focused on the homunculus. He's shaking like a rabbit caught in a corner, praying that the predator will leave him alone if he holds still enough. No such luck, as the homunculus comes over and puts his hands on his shoulders, and stares at him.

"Hmmmm…."

A hand comes up, carefully taking off his glasses, continuing to stare at him. Hohenheim flinches back as the other hand comes up to touch his face, twisting him like this and that without a regard for personal space.

"Oh. I thought you looked strange."

A thumb comes up and rubs against the bottom of his eye, and then the top, forcing him to close it. The other eye gets thee same treatment, after the thumb had been slightly moistened in the Homunculus' mouth to clean better. It takes him a moment to realize it, but… Did he just remove his eyeliner?!

"Was that all? You called me down here because you didn't like my makeup?"

The Homunculus almost chuckles, still scrubbing at the corner of his eye, before finally pulling away.

"Of course not. Though you know you don't have to wear that sort of thing, anymore, don't you? Pride _was_ right. You are acting strangely."

So that's why his eyeliner was sitting on a shelf, the Homunculus didn't like it, and it seemed that rather than working indirectly, he was just working directly with him. He can't help but notice that they're talking in Amestrian, and while he wants to lift his head up defiantly and talk in the language of the country that the homunculus destroyed, he decides to take a more mild approach and wait and see what he could learn.

This was all very unsettling, but of course it's _his_ action that are strange and not everyone else's. After all, he's the one who seemingly woke up in a world where everyone else fits perfectly, and he's supposed to fit too. He had a spot, but even with it, he doesn't fit. He lifts up a hand to take his glasses back, but pauses as his hand touches the homunculus', the other's thumb landing on his lips.

This was… Extremely strange. He stares at the other in some confusion as his lips are being traced, expecting to hear the other say something creepy about humans or… Or anything really. He does not anticipate what is said at all.

"Your frown keeps getting deeper, Van Hohenheim. Are you really that unhappy? I told you, we'll get your wife back. Your sons won't grow up unloved."

Trisha... So she really was dead. He had suspected as much, but the realization hits him. Waking up with his sons close, being able to start the day with them, all of it was because Trisha wasn't there to do it instead. He knows what he would have done if she had been heathy. He had fallen asleep last night doing it. Trying to destroy the homunculus' plan. Traveling around away from his family.

A tear makes it's way down his face, the homunculus brushing it away gently. This was still very strange, but he has to admit that it's kind of nice, being here with the homunculus. The same familiarity that had scared him when he walked in, now sweeps over him in a comforting way. Still, even if it seemed that he ran to his old friend when his wife had died, he can't get comfortable here. Especially if this is just a dream.

He doesn't want to have to look his friend in the eyes and destroy his work, and feel regret for doing the right thing. He takes a breath, his eyes steeling up a little, trying to take a step back emotionally.

"Perhaps so. Is this all you wanted to talk to me about?"

He wants the Homunculus to copy him, to be affronted by his petulant manner, and reject him or get to the goddamn point. That is not what happens, however. The thumb drags along his lip, parting the stern line of his mouth, before the Dwarf is leaning in, placing his lips over his. If he had been Amestrian, he's sure that he would have rejected the gesture at once.

But he isn't. He's Xerxean, and this was the first time someone was happy enough to see him to kiss him in a very, very long time. The kiss is shallow, but it lingers, and he can't help but close his eyes a little. He's in a drawn out stupor for a beat after the other's lips leave his, a slight chuckle drawing him back to wakefulness.

"You really do not change, do you, my friend? You always make that seem like so much fun."

He blushes a little at that, earning another chuckle from the homunculus, finally completing the action of reclaiming his glasses, and placing them on his face.

"Well… It is fun."

Even his defense of it is amusing to the Dwarf, and for a moment, he remembers an argument on a sunlit roof of Xerxes, him and the Dwarf staring out at the city. He thinks that it'll end in the same way, the homunculus giving a quiet 'perhaps'….

"With you, it is."

He goes even redder at that, though he couldn't exactly put a name to the emotion that causes him to do so, the homunculus filling the air with his laughter. After a moment, he joins in as well, though subdued and still embarrassed.

As their laughter dies down, it once again strikes him how odd this is, staring into his own face, knowing that it's the face of a creature that started life in a flask. He's honestly a little shocked at how much of his personality changed, and how much it remained the same. It's a lot more subdued then it had been before, and yet he thought he felt notes of _joy_ where there hadn't been before. The Dwarf still has a hand on his face, still observing him. The thumb that had been stroking his lips now strokes his beard, and for a moment, there is silence between them.

He can't help but feel the sting of regret, that this moment was taking place so long after everything was said and done, that his friend had obtained his goal at the lives of so many others. It would have been so good to see his friend walk and then live happily and then die after a good life. It would have been enough. And yet instead so many have suffered, and will continue to suffer. If only the Dwarf could have found satisfaction.

"You are still troubled. I know you, Hohenheim. You're trying to hide the thinking behind your eyes, but how many days did I spend gazing at that exact face you're making now…? I used to have that number memorized."

He shakes his head, still stroking Hohenheim's beard, his other hand reaching to take Van's, lacing their fingers together. He, for is part, doesn't try to fight the intimacy, knowing that the Homunculus is right. He also knows that the Homunculus knows exactly how to manipulate him, and is doing so shamelessly. He had let the other get too close to him, sapping away most of his anger and fear, leaving only the sadness and pain of years spent alone, battling the souls of Xerxes. He couldn't muster up the will to fight, only stand there stupidly.

"You're not alone anymore, Van. We're not alone anymore, neither of us. I know you're still horribly upset about Xerxes, you tell me often… But that doesn't mean you have to suffer any more because of it."

He closes his eyes, swallowing harshly, not wanting to hear any more of this. He takes a step backwards, but the hand doesn't leave his face, the thumb back on his lips.

"Well? Say something."

He takes a small breath in through his mouth, feeling the air drawing over the thumb resting heavily on his lips, the taste of something… Not quite human landing on his tongue. It occurs to him, briefly, that the Homunculus might have intended that, purposely positioned himself so this sensual action might occur.

He wants to say that he has nothing to say, but that isn't true. Even now he's got a lot of things he wants to say, the trouble being just to pick one and being able to stick with it. His confusion to what is happening, right now in this moment, the larger dilemma of if he's still asleep or somehow tripped into a new world… Or if he simply had forgotten his life here. The question of why the Homunculus had him come down here at all, or why his thumb was still heavy on his lips like this.

"You shouldn't throw Xerxes around like it's something light." His tone, much to his relief is slow and even, tinged with frost. "You might consider it foolish, but I loved my city, and I loved my home. You sat there and laughed at me for it, you knew what was going on and you smirked at me because I didn't. You say you know me, and yet you still took them, everyone I loved away from me, and shoved me full of people just as scared as I was, and you called it a _gift…"_

His voice breaks on the last word, his eyes having opened to stare at the Homunculus, demanding _anything_ from him. Anger. Hate. A fight. A reason not to feel like this. The Homunculus traces his new frown, still just as heavy, still just as surreal.

"You're right. It was wrong of me to do so, and you suffered greatly for it. Over the years I came to understand that distress. I was able to remove those unnecessary parts of myself and spare myself turmoil over the years, but when you came to me again, half mad with grief, I realized I had been a coward. You, my dear companion, could not do the same as I had."

He sighs, drawing Hohenheim back to him, loosening his grip on his hand to drop down and hold his waist. For a moment, Hohenheim falls still under the touch, thinking about pulling back, but ending up putting his now empty hand on the Homunculus' upper arm, listening to what he has to say.

"You keep all of it, everything that upsets you, hidden away where no one can find it. You're afraid to be ugly, even for a moment. You are everything I despise about humans, and yet the sole reason I wanted to be one."

He pulls a face at the Dwarf, about to say something, only for the other to shush him with that same thumb that has been on his lips.

"You are the product of Xerxes. I hadn't realized that until it was too late. I thought that cutting it away from you would have freed you, truly freed you and allowed you to make as many families as you wanted. You were dependent on the city, and it was a sickness I thought I had to stop. Where you loved it, I hated it to it's core. Inside my flask, I watched you. I saw every inch of you, every scar, every mark, every time you let Xerxes have its way with you, and you pretending not to care. I shouldn't have taken it into my hands, to save you. I couldn't think of what else to do, I couldn't deny the king in his search for knowledge without risking my life, but I thought, if perhaps, I had to give one human anything, it might as well be the human that I loved."

That word lingers in the air between them, and Hohenheim finally realizes why the Dwarf had spoken in Amestrian, while even with all this talk of Xerxes, his speech had stayed in it. Xerxean couldn't express that emotion well enough. Their home tongue prevented such foolish usage of words. The Dwarf had loved him. Perhaps had always loved him. He thinks he might have known that, once upon a time. He doesn't know if he could say the same.

Yet, he is not oblivious to the Dwarf's intimate hold on him. He cannot pretend that it was simply an accident that the Homunculus had gotten this close to him, and he had simply neglected to pull away in seriousness. He craved the familiarity of any part of Xerxes he could find, the Dwarf being right. He had been dependent on the city, the effect only being amplified with the thousands of souls who also wanted to go home. Here, even for a moment, standing with the Homunculus and his souls, the feeling of being lost and homesick is abating slightly. A _relief_ from the torment. That combined with the apology he never expected to hear from his friend, even if it was kind of a shitty one, causes him to wobble slightly.

The Dwarf's hold on him tightens, drawing him in closer, his hand moving from his cheek to the back of his neck, pulling him down to rest on his shoulder. A very human response, one that seems slightly out of place, but he's grateful for it, all the same, his hand that hung loosely at his side coming up to rest on the other's back.

"I told you. You're not alone. You're not going to be alone again Hohenheim. You, your sons, your wife when she comes back… We're going to be together, and you won't have to worry so much anymore."

He closes his eyes at the promise, nodding slightly. He has to admit that does sound very nice indeed, having his friend back, having his family back, starting a new home and happiness. It's all he's ever craved, it's all he's ever wanted. His eyes well up with tears, and the Dwarf removes his glasses once again, wiping the droplets away. Once again, he kisses Hohenheim, lingering longer this time, his hand tightening around his waist. There could be little room for interpretation of the gesture, though it does leave a slightly surprised look on Hohenheim's face as the Homunculus pulls away.

"I thought that you had removed your lust."

After all, Lust was one of those carnal sins, wasn't it? The Homunculus smirks a little at that, though it's not unkindly.

"I have. As I said before, however, I know you're incapable of doing so. Could you deny that you've come to me time and again for this very thing, wishing to avoid yourself embarrassment?"

He flushes a little at that, wanting to say that there was little possibility for that, but.. The truth was, if he really had been living here in central, and he had been on fair terms with his old friend, the possibility was actually very high. After all, with the promise of his wife coming back, he would not wish to introduce another person into his boys life, and would be loathed to take time away from them to find someone for the evening.

"I was working. I should probably get back…"

"Do not fret. Envy is filling in for you right now. That, and I _do_ have something I must discuss with you, I did not call you down here just to entertain you. You looked troubled, however, and it was expedient that I set you at ease before anything else."

He tugs the back of Hohenheim's hair, shaking his head down at him, looking almost displeased.

"You do not listen when you are upset. A habit that I rather wish you would break. It would be much more efficient, and yet it is what it is and I have to work around it. However, if you do insist, I suppose we could forgo it. You seem relaxed enough that you could listen."

He darkens more at that, not particularly wanting to admit that his relaxed state was only achieved because he currently was held so closely, cursing himself silently for how weak he was. The Homunculus watches him for a long moment, waiting for a response, before kissing him once again. This time Hohenheim kisses back gently, his eyes closing after a moment. He didn't know . what to think, imagining for a moment that he's kissing the same form that he knew in the flask, that one eyed vague form of smoke, and he finds himself… Not as hesitant as he was before. He nods after a moment, still not opening up his eyes.

"I think it could be okay, if only for a few moments."

He feels the Dwarf pulling away, and for a terrifying second he thinks he just agreed to listen to what the Dwarf had to say rather than the other offer. His fears are abated as his hand is taken, eyes opening as he feels himself starting to be lead away, taken up into a chamber that overlooks what could only be described as the Homunculus' throne room.

He is quite surprised to find himself satisfied in the Dwarf's embrace, wondering about how many times this has happened between them. The chamber seems to be comfortable enough for him, familiar in a very strange way. After they are done, and he's cleaning himself with the water and rag from the basin, he is once again shocked to find the Homunculus behind him with a brush in his hand, cleaning out the snarls from his hair. It's reminiscent of this morning, when Edward braided up his hair.

Cared for. That's what it made him feel like, having others take the time to ensure that he was presentable. He finishes splashing water on his face, drying it off his face. He's about to reach up and re-braid his hair, but the Homunculus is already braiding it for him. He must have shown some confusion, as the Homunculus sets a hand on his shoulder.

"You have already told me that your son likes to braid your hair, and that you do not wish him to feel as if you are trying to ignore his efforts."

He blinks, realizing that it's exactly right. He's touched that the homunculus might have remembered such a human detail, instead of brushing it off as insignificant. After all, it was just a hair style. In a moment he's done, tying off the braid. He lingers for a moment, brushing his fingers underneath Hohenheim's chin.

"When you regain your composure, come out and talk to me. We do have business to attend to, but as always, this space is yours as long as you need it."

With that, he sweeps out of the room, his robes trailing behind him, leaving Hohenheim to his thoughts. This was absolutely the strangest thing. And yet, he can't help but find it… Almost nice in nature. It was so easy. Having his friend who knew him, the promise that his family was going to be okay, not having to worry about if the boys were safe or not because he was here with them. Could it be that he is happy here? After all this time, is he finally allowed to be happy?

Is that even possible for him anymore? He sighs, his head dropping. Just like all the other questions that had built up in the time he's been here, he doesn't know the answer. The deeper he goes, the longer he stays here, the more confused he seems to get. Sitting naked isn't helping him, and he turns to find his clothing. It's folded up, neatly waiting for him, and he puts it back on, crisp as can be, as if nothing had happened at all. He looks around for a moment for a reflective surface to touch up his eyeliner, but… That's right, the Dwarf took it off, hadn't he? It was likely he would just do it again. He sighs, sliding his glasses onto his nose.

He adjusts his uniform, shaking out the slight crease, shrugging on the white coat again before stepping out, head held high. The Homunculus is not there to greet him this time, and he cannot help but feel a little pleased, having disliked how easy it had been for the creature to turn him to putty between his hands, as if it were nothing but a joke.

His hands jam down into his pockets and he descends the stairs, turning on his heel to face the throne, the Homunculus lounging on it idly. At his appearance, the Dwarf looks up, mild curiosity on his face. He holds out a hand to Hohenheim, as if he seriously expects him to take it. For a moment, Hohenheim considers it, and decides against it, ignoring it. He speaks, not in Amestrian but in Xerxean, forcing the Dwarf to do the same if he wanted Hohenheim to listen to him.

"You called me here to discuss something. It is time to do so."

The Dwarf sighs, dropping his hand, the look in his eyes hardening to a glare for a fraction of a moment. Hohenheim's eyes sparkle slightly at the change in his demeanor, daring the Dwarf to comment on it. If the Homunculus knew him as well as he claimed he does, he would know that doing so would instigate a fight between them, one that Hohenheim is willing to bet that he would have taken if he currently did not want something from him.

"Yes… One that I will even discuss in this foul tongue, if you are truly insistent on it."

The Homunculus wrinkles his nose, clearly not pleased to be speaking in this tongue, but Hohenheim remains stony faced and silent. He has always been able to drive the Homunculus up a wall with his non-responses when the creature was being difficult, just as the same trick had worked on him every time as well. A slight twitch in the Homunculus' jaw indicates that the blow had landed, forcing him to continue.

"I need you to take over the research for Lab Five. I need you to say yes this time, Van Hohenheim. Your work in Lab Three is pointless and we both know it."

Lab 5? He doesn't say anything, clearly supposed to already know what they study in lab 5. Lab 3 seems to be spatial distortion using alchemy, from the experiment he had observed, and the few materials he had gotten to browse. The Homunculus waits for a response, this time the long silence not being broken by the same pressure as before.

"I find Lab Three's work interesting, and will continue to study there."

It was nearly imperceptible, the draw of the Dwarf's lips downwards, but to Hohenheim, who had been watching for it, it had been as clear as a shout.

"I understand that you object to using humans in experiments, Hohenheim, but is it not your goal to get your Trisha back? And how will you do that if you refuse to study for me? Do you actually expect that it can be done if you do not get your hands dirty?"

Human experiments? His face remains as blank as it was before, though a feeling of disgust washes through him. Lab Five, human transmutation. The Homunculus wanted a living philosopher's stone at the head of it. No, if he knows how the Dwarf works at all he wants him there so he can study him. He decides to call him out on it.

"You already have the researcher you want at the lab, Homunculus. You want me placed under observation, after all what kind of a researcher would I be if I did not submit myself to be observed as well? I am, after all, the first successful human philosopher stone."

The Dwarf remains static for a moment, before opening his mouth a little too wide, starting to laugh. Unlike before, the sound was chilling, going on for slightly too long. After his mouth closes, he stares at Hohenheim, before nodding, though Hohenheim can't help but feel there's something he missed.

"Yes, indeed. You have made it very clear that I am not to study you, and I must commend you for seeing past the emotional argument."

And yet there is something that Hohenheim can't put his finger on. As if he's being teased. It occurs to him after a moment, that when he came to the Homunculus, that it would have been easy for him to place him in Lab Five without a warning if it was to research a way to get Trisha back, even if it was to study him while he in turn was studying. It would have been his driving goal. So… Why hadn't he?

Homunculus had something to hide. Something in Lab Five that had finally been taken care of to his satisfaction and now he's trying to press Hohenheim in there. No, incorrect. Now that whatever is in Lab Five is gone, it wouldn't mater what lab he was placed in. in fact, he was sure that if he suggested another lab, any other lab but Three, the homunculus would agree to it.

The Homunculus thought he had made a mistake putting Hohenheim in Lab Three.

"We made an agreement when I came to you, Dwarf." He knows he had. Even half mad with grief he knows the Dwarf more than the creature would like to admit, and there was no way he'd come without insisting on something. "I will be continuing in what interests me, in Lab Three. Come to me when you have something in Lab Five that will catch my interest. We are done here."

He turns on his heel, walking away from the Dwarf, not giving him a glance backwards. He can feel the Dwarf behind him, frustrated at the very least, if not angry. Wrath was gone as well, but that couldn't stop him from feeling at least put out that Hohenheim hadn't bent to his will again. He still had a lot to learn about humans, hadn't he?

He makes his way back to his office without much advent, taking a moment to figure out how to open the bookcase, before taking Envy, who was sleeping in his look alike form at his desk, by the scruff and throwing him back through the bookcase. As he's shouting, he swings the door shut, blocking out the noise. After all, he had work to do.

He looks around his collection of books for a moment, trying to decide what would be useful for him. He knows that he must have stored something of interest here, as at home there didn't seem to be too many books of anything. He picks one at random, once again his eyes see the lines of Xerxes written under the Amestrian, eyes picking out the strange word usage. That had to be something, right? He tries reading it through with the duel words being used as their secondary meanings, and for a while it seems to work. He tries reading only the words that are double contexted. It nearly makes sense.

Up until the point where he realizes that it doesn't mean anything at all. It's utter gibberish, even by his standards. He tries book after book, but nothing. A soft knock on the door, and he looks up, the lady that greeted him when he walked in peaking in.

"Sorry to disturb you, Sir. I wanted to remind you that you're picking up your kids early today."

He blinks, looking up from his books. He takes out his pocket watch, checking the time. Has it already gotten so late? He closes the watch, tucking it away, before standing up, stretching himself out.

"Thank you. I had forgotten…." He stares at her for a second, trying for the life of him figure out how he's supposed to address her. He then tries to ask how she knows what he's supposed to be doing. "Um..."

She sighs, giving him a slight, pitying smile.

"Rodriguez. Helena Rodriguez." It's said as if she's said this a thousand times before, but it's not unkindly. Just pityingly. "And you've been talking about Alphonse's birthday nonstop for the past week, Sir. We were surprised you didn't try to take off earlier, so we thought it would be best if one of us came to remind you."

His face drains of color for a moment, before it flushes, a hand coming up to his mouth. That was today, wasn't it? He had been thinking about that the day before yesterday, about how Alphonse was turning six today. Poor Alphonse must have thought he had forgotten, because he had. He's surprised Edward didn't call him out on it, but perhaps he had been waiting for his little brother to speak up for himself.

He's already grabbing books, sticking them back on the shelf in the order that he took them off, calling over his shoulder to her, a slight panic in his voice. After all, he doesn't know if he made any plans for his son or not.

"Rodriguez, thank you for bringing this to my attention. I had forgotten… Oh dear I hope I'm not too late…"

Damn the Homunculus, if he hadn't been distracted with that frivolous waste of time, he might have been able to have this mentioned to him sooner. A smallish book ends up in his pocket as he takes out his watch again, looking at it. He looks around the area, all of the books put away.

"Um, is that it? What else should I do before I leave…?"

She shakes her head, holding open the door for him.

"You took care of the outstanding stuff earlier today, and the rest is our gift to Alphonse. Enjoy."

He smiles at her for a short moment, heading through the open door. He pauses to look at her for a moment, a smile still on his lips.

"You know, I think I should kiss you."

"I really would prefer if you didn't, Sir."

"Okay."

He flushes for a moment, and ducks out of the room. That was one way to make a total ass out of himself, that's for sure. He bustles out of the building and out of the gate without a second thought, trying to think on what he was trying to plan for Alphonse's birthday. He knows that Xerxes didn't put much stock in something like this, but, he remembers that on the birthdays that he did have with the boys and Trisha, there was cake and a gift given to the child that was having the birthday. And then a smaller gift to the child that wasn't having the birthday, because they found out pretty quickly that giving a child something lead the other to sulking. Especially Edward.

So… what was he to do? He had no idea if he told the children if he was planning something or not, he doesn't even know if he's gotten gifts for them and hid them somewhere. What was this, even? Alphonse's first birthday after his mother died? He doesn't want to end up hating the day he was born just because he's terrible at this.

He finds himself wishing that he had Trisha here, or at least could find the book he knows he must have kept. His journal. But he hadn't seen anything like it in his office, and the book hadn't come up in the brief search of the apartment this morning, but he can't go back there, can he? Not now. It's even more clear when he reaches the school, Alphonse and Edward sitting on the steps.

Edward is holding Alphonse, rubbing his back, saying something. Alphonse goes to reply, but looks up as his dad comes into view, face lighting up. He's already jumping up, rushing over to his dad, shouting to Edward.

"See?! I told you he wouldn't forget!"

He takes a flying leap at Hohenheim, who only has a moment to swoop down to catch him up, the little boy laughing with glee as he hugs his father's neck, tears in his eyes as he buries his face under his chin.

"You came! You came, you came, you came!"

He lets out a small breath, resting his chin on Alphonse's head, cuddling him close for a moment. Glancing over at Edward, he sees that the oldest boy has his hands on his hips, but the faintest touch of a smile on his lips.

"Yes. I'm sorry Alphonse, I didn't come sooner. Happy birthday."

The little boy falls quiet for a moment, before letting out a squeal of pure joy, pulling back to pepper his father's cheeks with kisses. He doesn't say it, but he's beyond pleased that Hohenheim remembered what day it was. He can tell. After a moment though, he pauses, looking at his dad's face a little more closely.

"Oh. Your fancy lines are gone."

He reaches up under Hohenheim's glasses with tiny fingers, brushing under his eyes for a moment. Hohenheim sighs slightly through his nose, smiling a little sadly.

"Yeah. I forgot I couldn't wear it at work. But, you know, if you want I could still put some on you when we get home."

"You mean _after_ we go to the park, right? Before we go to dinner?"

Hohenheim gives a little nod, before pressing a kiss to Al's cheek.

"That's exactly right." He looks up, over to Edward, holding out a hand for him. "Do you want me to carry you too, Edward? I've got two arms for a reason."

The oldest boy shakes his head, though he does come to take his father's hand in his, for a moment flashing a smile up at him.

"No, I'm not a baby like Alphonse is."

"I'm not a baby! I'm six years old, now!"

"Oh? Is that why Dad's still carrying you around like a baaaby?"

"No! It's because I don't way a ton like you do, Ed!"

"What? You take that back! I don't weigh a ton, I just don't want to be carried!"

They bicker back and forth like this for a while, Hohenheim grinning to himself as they start to walk. He might have been worried that they were actually fighting if Trisha were still alive, but here… In this moment? With things the way they are? He thinks that they're both a little angry. A little confused, just like their old man was. Their words might be a little harsh, but the love they had for each other was still clear enough, and for now it has to be enough. At least they are together.

It hurts him to think of what might have happened to these boys if he was gone, like he had been just a day before, out wandering, and their mother dying on them. He doesn't want to think about it. Here, at least, they could argue like this, one perched in the arms of his father, the other hanging on to his hand. Still just children, still young and only needing to be young. They grew up faster than they needed, if this morning was any indication of it, and he knows that is on him.

Him not being strong enough to keep himself together. Needing to rely on someone else. His thoughts turn back briefly to the Dwarf and their encounter today, but he pushes it from his mind. Yes, it seems that he is relying on the Dwarf for the moment, but he'll be damned if his children are affected by it.

What he doesn't see is a shadow closing its eye behind them, oblivious for the moment of Pride's watchful eyes. The day is bright, and his children are happy, he is content. Tomorrow is another day.

He expects to wake up by his dead fire, it would make sense, after all. That is not what happens, however. As his eyes open to the new day, he doesn't need Alphonse to start squirming to realize that the boys are both in his arms this morning. He glances down at them, a soft amused breath making its way out of his nose.

For now, it seemed this dream continued. He's the first one to wake up, it seemed, and while he knows he'll probably have to wake them up soon, he can't help but want to continue watching them sleep. After their time at the park, he had came home and found the journal he kept by his bedside, and as expected, it had Alphonse's birthday plans in it, and the money needed.

The gifts he gotten for the boys had been stored on the top self of the closet in the hall, and they're wearing them now. Simple but elegant, each boy had received a hairclip, Alphonse's being blue and green in the shape of a flower, Edward's being a red and yellow lion's head. The had both insisted that Hohenheim place them in their hair immediately, and as soon as he was done, they had done something that was unexpected!

They had given him a gift as well, his being a hair clip as well, but instead of something shiny, it had been pigeon feathers secured to it. Alphonse got to put it in his hair as it was his birthday, and he had been softly petting it throughout the evening. The boys had admitted to climbing to the top shelf on the days that Hohenheim had stayed late so he could take the time off, and decided to make one of their own for their dad, so that they could match.

A smile comes to his face at the remembrance of it, squeezing his children gently. They let out a soft squeak at it, Edward grumbling something before his thumb lands in his mouth and drifts off again. Alphonse opens his eyes slightly, hand coming up to lay against his dad's beard, and he yawns, closing his eyes again, with his tongue sticking out.

Yeah, he's just going to keep staring at his babies for a while, there's no way he's going to wake them up any time soon. It's quite possible that he's going to be late for todays activities, but now that Edward isn't pushing him to get up, he doesn't really care. It is so good to be able to see their faces again, to just sit here and spend time looking at them. He's about to drift off again when Edward shifts, looking up at his ad for a long moment. The hand he's not sucking on comes up hard and fast, landing squarely on his nose.

He reels back, his hand coming up to hold it as the sparks fly, healing the slight damage. He sits up, Alphonse whining as movement happens. Edward keeps staring up at him for a long moment, still sucking away at his thumb. Hohenheim sighs, placing his hand on Edward's head, shaking him very slightly. Edward blinks, his cloudy eyes clearing up. His thumb falls out of his mouth and he yawns.

"What's it…?"

He pouts up at his father who has a frown from getting punched in the face. He lets out a sigh, cupping Edward's face in his hand, giving him a little pat to his cheek. Well, that explains why Edward sleeps at his back.

"Nothin….."

He sighs, patting Edward's face again, the child blinking at him. Alphonse is awake too, now, rubbing at his eyes as he yawns. So much for napping with his kids today. It seems inevitable that time moves on, and he's already reaching for his glasses, sliding them on to his face. He sighs, leaning back against the headboard, eyes closing for a long moment, waiting for Edward to start kicking up a fuss about all they have to do today.

It doesn't seem to come though, instead, the children seem quite happy to relax themselves, one of them crawling over their dad to grab the book he had found in his pocket when he took out his watch. He hears the book flip open, the other boy swatting it out of the first one's hand. They fight over it for a while, before settling down, looking it over together. He should probably stop them, as it could be sensitive material, but he can't give a damn about it.

He opens his eyes, watching the boys reading over the book. One pauses, thumb running over the Xerxean he had written in, and had smudged with his thumb yesterday, trying to figure out if he had somehow encrypted a message into it. The other duel words had been slightly dented with a thumbnail, other wear and tear from his actions the day before. He lets out a breath, head dropping back against the wall, not even want to be thinking about yesterday at the office.

Like he actually spent any time at the office yesterday. He lets out a frustrated sigh with himself, pinching his nose. He stays like that for a long moment, letting the boys chew over the book. After all, if he had anything important in there, it would be written in the Xerxean, wouldn't it? He feels a slight tug on his shirt, opening his eyes to look down at the boy who did it. It's Alphonse, but it's Edward who's pointing to the book.

"Hey, dad? What's a…. N…Nation… Nation wide… transmitter?"

He frowns, looking down at the thing. Edward points again, the Amestrian swimming before his eyes. Underneath the Amestrian, he sees the duel words he marked, but above them, the words in Amestrian are clear as day. Nation, wide, transmitter… The Xerxean he's written out doesn't have these words, just the duel ones with the forced context… The more he looks at it, the more he realizes that they're not only out of place, but do not fit at all. They are evenly matched to the Amestrian, and only vaguely communicate the idea. They are underlines, not translations.

Operating on this assumption, he flips through the book slowly, trying to read the Amestrian. His boys read faster than he does, so as they see dented marks on the page, they whisper the Amestrian to themselves, glancing at their dad from time to time, trying to see if this was okay to do.

"Still… Set…Activation… Unchanged."

That's as far as he flips, staring at the book with a low fear growing in his belly. His boys are staring up at him, waiting for any response from their dad. He lets out a very long sigh, thinking to himself. Transmitter… That must have meant 'transmutation'. The nationwide transmutation…

"Son of a fucking whore."

He takes the book, shutting it gently, before wrapping his boys up in his arms, knowing that they probably don't understand. Or even worse, they do. Was that the trade off he made with the Homunculus, that he would allow him to destroy the country in return for his wife and children being safe? Or was the Homunculus going against him, and continuing the circle despite him being there?

Was it that the Homunculus was going to make his family into philosopher stones as well? He had mentioned that they were going to be together after they got Trisha back. The boys in his arms shift a little, coming up to hug his neck, realizing that their dad is upset. He feels prickling on the back of his neck, before he hears a tiny whisper in his ear.

"He wants to see you…"

Pride had been listening. Pride had been being his father eyes and ears. Hohenheim doesn't respond, instead tracing the line back to where Pride's container waits, for a moment taking control of it, turning it's head to look at the Homunculus. The creature notices the movement, his teeth clacking together. His lips form Hohenheim's name, hand reaching out to Pride's container. He snaps back to his body, the tendril turning to dust behind him. He reaches up to brush the remnants off his face, looking down at his boys.

He's tired and upset, and wants to take the day off to feel moody, but he knows that's not fair to them. No, with the Homunculus and his children running around, being ornery with him and then letting his boys out of his sight seemed like an invitation for danger. He lets out a sigh, gently touching their faces.

"Have I ever taught you boys how to recognize me, even if there's someone else who looks like me?"

The boys stare at him for a moment, before shaking their heads, and he nods. Well, even if they had somewhere to be this morning, it was canceled. Canceled due to bad decisions and pettiness on his part. He's not sure if today will be enough to teach his kids Qi tracing, but perhaps it'll be enough to prevent them from going with Envy if he shows up wearing their father's face, or any of the other homunculi that might be lurking around Central.

It also occurs to him that he's going to have to kiss up to the homunculus later, if he wanted ensure his children's safety. It's about then that he realizes why his children are here at all. They're hostages. The decisions that Hohenheim had made had left his family right on the palm of the Homunculus for him to do as he pleased with them.

He has made a terrible, frightening mistake. His hands are shaking on the boy's shoulders, unable to control himself and his emotions. These boys were his everything, the thought of placing them in danger with that careless action scaring him beyond words. Whatever he had been doing here before, how could it be that he so casually destroyed everything?

The boys are talking to each other for a long moment, Hohenheim too panicked to understand what they might be saying. Edward shrugs a little, before looking at his dad, placing his hands on his face. In tentative, ill formed Xerxean, he speaks.

"Ho-Kahem… i-.. I'uel lyo…"

He frowns, trying to figure out what was supposed to come next. He shakes his head, glancing over to Alphonse. The other boy frowns as well, before also placing a hand on his father's cheek.

"Hebp'etat? H'sain ildo."

It takes Hohenheim a little while to realize what they're trying to say to him, used to the way that his home tongue sounds in the mouths of those who spoke it fluently, using the turn of phrases common to the tongue. What they had said was 'father, are you ill? Something frightened you"

They were right, and he could not deny that they were right. He nods, eyes sliding away from them. He wants to ask them where they learned the language, but he can't think that far ahead. He just wants the boys to learn enough to protect themselves against thee homunculi. But would they understand.

"Ue. Ubem di eru? …. Can you listen?"

He switches back to Amestrian, trying to make sure his boys can understand him. They nod, looking attentive. They are listening to him, but that wasn't quite what he meant. He takes a breath in and out, and the boys, confused for a moment, before they slowly copy their father when no other words seem to arrive. Of course, he's just trying to calm himself down enough so he can explain to the boys what he needs them to do. That he needs them to _listen._ That he needs them to _hear_ him. But that doesn't make any sense.

Still, the boys are staring at him, breathing with him, giving their all to try to obey the vague instruction of 'listen'. Alphonse is the first to close his eyes, face scrunching tightly, Edward glancing over at him before doing the same. He smiles, thinking to himself that while it was adorable, it wasn't possible it was going to work-

"DAD!"

He jumps at the loud shout, Edward and Alphonse going flying. Alphonse ends up somewhere over the side of the bed, Edward rolling over the end. Alphonse pops back up pretty quickly, looking over the edge of the bed with excitement.

"You never told us you had a party going on inside you!"

"P-party?"

Alphonse nods, before point at him.

"You told us to listen and I listened really hard just like you asked me too, and I heard them! They're speaking in the funny words you like to use! The ones we were just playing with."

He frowns for a moment, before looking over at his older brother, as if demanding Edward back him up. The older boy seems dazed from his sudden flight, pouting slightly as he rubs the back of his head.

"I dunno Al… There might have been somethin' but someone startled the old bastard…"

Hohenheim puffs up a little at that, Edward glancing at him before pulling a face.

"What? You just said 'son of a fucking whore' after we read to you. Yer lucky I didn't say it sooner old man!"

"… Okay, fair point…."

He hates how smart his kids are. No wonder he doesn't have any books laying around the house. If they got their hands on alchemy books, it was sure that they'd be transmuting things before the end of chapter two. He lets out a heavy sigh, shaking his head.

"Though you shouldn't say either of those things, Edward. I shouldn't have said the first thing myself. I do try not to swear around you boys."

"Yeah, but you're fucking terrible at it."

Edward and Hohenheim look over at Alphonse, shock painted over their faces. Alphonse looks far too pleased with himself, and after a moment, Hohenheim can't help but start to chuckle. Soon they're all laughing, the boys crawling back on to the bed to snuggle with their father, and for a long moment, there is nothing but the sound of laughter and the light of the sun streaming into the room, the former panic and fear gone from the room.

It wasn't to say that he wasn't worried still, but at least now he could think. It wouldn't do him any good to be so afraid of what might happen that he couldn't do anything at all. Now that Alphonse has at least demonstrated the ability to be able to hear him, it would be easier to coach Edward on it, wouldn't it? He's grateful for the fact that he is very loud inside. It'd be easier for them to hear him, and it's quite possible that he's the loudest.

He can't quite shake off the feeling that he doesn't know what he's doing, that he wasn't questioning if this is making things worse or not. He hopes not. He holds the boys close for a while, not knowing what else to do. He would happily stay like this for the rest of the day, keeping them by him, keeping them safe. Fear, however, can't be what rules a life. He doesn't want these boys to be timid in their actions or in their thoughts. He wants them to have freedom in body and mind.

After he works with Edward for a bit, the boy somewhat grudgingly admits that Alphonse was right, instantly complaining that he was hungry. Both of the boys seem hungry, actually. He realizes that he's hungry too, ravenous almost. He laughs, finally crawling out of bed, boys in tow behind him.

The fridge is almost empty, though there's enough for breakfast. This was fine, he'll just have to take the boys with him as he went out shopping. They still seem pretty relaxed for now, a stark contrast from yesterday. He decides to ask them about it, only for them to give odd looks at him.

"Dad, it's Saturday. We don't have school today."

Oh. Well. He's about to ask if he's got today off too, but decides against it. He doesn't want to be at work anyway. Not after this morning. It would make sense as to why the homunculus would feel the need to summon him in such a manner if he wasn't going in today.

For now, he wasn't leaving his children alone. After breakfast, he tells the boys to get dressed for the day, watching them run off with their small trinkets in their hair. He cleans up after their meal, quietly thinking to himself about what he is supposed to do. It occurs to him after a while that the boys seem awfully quiet right now, and the cold ting of fear is starting to creep up his spine.

As he turns to go find them, that's when the yelling starts, and he drops the plate he was holding with a crash. His boys, what's happening with his boys—

He finds them in the bathroom, Alphonse and Edward shouting back and forth at each other, before catching sight of their dad. They turn to look at him, Edward's eyes outlined in thick, messy eyeliner, Alphonse caught redhanded with the stick. Hohenheim sighs, resting his head against the door, a soft amused smile coming to his face.

Edward however is not amused and turns to his little brother.

"See? I knew you were doing it wrong! It's supposed to be like this!"

Edward takes the stick, and before Hohenheim can stop him, already has drawn new eyebrows on Alphonse. A hand comes up to his mouth and he starts to giggle, unable to stop himself. Alphonse looks in the mirror, before both boys turn to Hohenheim, large grins on their faces.

"Yes, you both look lovely."

He manages to say it with a straight face, the boys squeak with pride at the praise. They rush up to him, holding the stick up to him. He smiles, taking it. For a moment, he hesitates, not sure if he should wear it, but steps over to the mirror. He briefly washes his face, before drying it, applying the eyeliner. He slides his glasses back in place, looking at himself.

'You know you don't need to wear that' he had said. He had taken it off, like it was dirt smudged onto his face. So casually and without a second thought. But… This was the face he liked to see in the mirror. He then also draws in his eyebrows a little so he can match Alphonse as well as Edward.

He turns to look at them and they squeal with glee. He smiles at them, reaching out to ruffle their hair, careful not to disturb their hair trinkets. They've gotten dressed like they were asked too, so now it's only his turn. He crouches down to hug them, kissing their faces.

Not wanting to be worried about them, he decides to have them in the room with him as he changes, as he's been wandering around as naked as he's going to get in his undershirt and underpants, having changed them yesterday. It was a little weird yesterday and today waking up half dressed like this, instead of fully dressed. It was weird being able to change clothes.

Now it's weird looking through his closet, actually trying to choose something to wear. It was almost alien, this sensation of choice. Edward reminds him he needs to clean the dirty uniform, so he sets that on the bed to take out later, when they're running around. He sure hopes there's a place because boy, does he not know how to clean it. He ends up choosing a soft green shirt, having to admit to himself that the hairclip he had gotten for Alphonse was because blue and green where his favorite colors, and probably not because the boy in anyway liked them. He pins up his hair, not into a pony tail or braid, but a soft updo, using the pigeon feathered hairpin as the final one to hold his hair in place.

Pants on, shirt buttoned, hair up, he feels… Almost fancy. He feels good. He knows he wouldn't have gone overboard like this if he hadn't realized how… Confined sleeping in the same outfit day and night was. It was probably out of character for him to take this much care into how he looked, but if so, his boys don't mention it. They just compliment him for how nice he looks.

They all look nice. Even Edward with his racoon eyes, and Alphonse with his bold, daring eyebrows. It was nice. This was nice. He flips through the journal by his bedside, finding where he puts his money for things like this, taking some before marking the change down. It wouldn't do for him to neglect his records here, as this record really was the only thing he had to guide him. Well, it and the boys. He takes the uniform on the bed, throwing it over his arm, before he and the boys set out for the day, chins up as they walk out into Central's crisp morning air.

There was something so satisfying about running around town like this with the boys, talking and laughing. Out in the open like this, he feels safer for the moment. Bright and sunny. He knows that as long as he dances in the maw of the beast, he risks getting snapped up in it.

After dropping of the uniform and getting some groceries, he and the boys decide to stop at a nearby park, leaving their bags by the bench. He sits down on a swing, watching his boys frolic around in the day. He's so focused on them that he doesn't even notice that someone's behind him, until he feels the shifting of the rope behind him, the feeling of someone taking the rope into their hands.

He freezes, his senses flooding back to him, and he knows who it is. His throat constricts, but he slowly looks upward, meeting the eyes of the homunculus. He looks displeased to say the least, but he's neglected his robes in favor of a simple black suit, his hair tied up at his shoulder rather than loose.

"You seemed surprised to see me, Hohenheim."

Surprised is the gentlest word he could use here. Hohenheim doesn't say anything, but the truth is that he didn't really think that the Homunculus actually left his cavern. He hadn't thought he was able, as awful as that sounds. He doesn't need to say anything as the Homunculus closes an eye, shaking his head down at him.

"I do not do it often, but I am just as capable as you. I did say I wanted to see you, Van Hohenheim. After your… Rejection of the invitation, I decided it best to come see you."

Hohenheim's eyes glance over to his children, but they're still involved in playing, not even giving their old man a glance. His gaze snaps back to the Homunculus as he feels his beard being stroked, his hands tightening on the ropes of the swing.

"Do not worry, Hohenheim. You have no need to fear for your children's safety. You have no need to fear at all, though I suppose that not even that knowledge assuages your terror."

He wants to rip the hand off of his face, but he doesn't want to cause a scene. His children are more or less oblivious, and he wants to keep them that way. He still refuses to speak, deciding that if the Homunculus had anything worthwhile to say, he would just say it.

There is silence for a long time, and Hohenheim goes back to watching his kids, now more closely than ever. He feels the Homunculus' hands moving upwards from his beard, into his hair, his teeth clenching as it happens.

"I know you're worried about the circle. I was a little surprised you'd be so careless and show anything about it to your boys, but…. You have been behaving strangely these past few days."

He's only been here a day! He's only not known what's going on for a day. How could he have been behaving strangely if he wasn't even here to do so. He feels the slight plucking of his hair being played with, but he doesn't say anything.

"I told you last time you brought it up, did I not? It's nothing you have to be worried about Hohenheim. This isn't going to end like Xerxes did."

Reassuring, he's sure. Though, whatever happened, it was assured that it wouldn't end like Xerxes. Even if everyone died this time, especially now, he would give up any semblance of fighting and stay with the Homunculus. He knows he would. He can't stand seeing anyone else die, and as long as he bears the curse of all those years ago, he would be forced to stay by the Dwarf's side. He wouldn't be the same person as he was, but if the Dwarf's end goal was to trap him like a butterfly and pin him up, that would be a way to do it.

"None of this has been about getting my wife back, has it."

The Homunculus sighs, gently pulling on Hohenheim's ear. After a moment, he drapes himself around Hohenheim, squeezing himself close to his unyielding back.

"You know as well as I do that there is no way to call a soul back from the dead. The only one who could do that is god. It has always been this way, and I intend to become him, Hohenheim. You knew that. You might have been able to lie to yourself, but you knew that. From the moment you came to me sniveling, you knew you were begging me to share the powers of god with you."

He catches Hohenheim's jaw, turning him to face him, his pale eyes glittering with hidden ruby hues. For the first time since he's been here, does he really get a sense of something looking out at him pass those eyes, the feeling of something alien in a human flesh suit.

"Have I not made it easy for you here? I have indulged every one of your desires Hohenheim. Every one of them. You asked for your wife, and you will have her. Your patience does not get to run out with me. Your boys are safe and happy and full. Why is that? You think it was because of you? Because of your efforts? You took them from their home to come to me. To a creature you think of a monster."

Hohenheim's lips go thin, pressed together in anger. He tries to pull his head back, tries to look back to his boys, but the Homunculus doesn't let him. He forces Hohenheim to keep looking at him, eyes locked together.

"You're not wrong, of course, but you're pathetic. At the first sign of trouble, you always turn tail and cower, throwing yourself on the mercy of whatever's nearby. You once said that humans live for the connections they make with other people, but you're just a parasite on them aren't you? You know why you've stayed here this long with me."

The thumb is on his lips again, the action sending a spike of anxiety down his back. His lips open slightly, a sharp inhale. Not this. Not this, not where his sons can see him being weak and pathetic. He can't do this. His hands come up, both hands wrapping around the Homunculus' trying to push him away, but the Homunculus is stronger, pushing back against him, his thumb playing with his lips.

"It's because you thrive when you're being treated badly, you love it when you have something you can be angry against. You always have been and always will be nothing than a bitter slave that likes being told what to do."

His hands are shaking, still straining against the Homunculus, trying to get him to stop touching him. He doesn't want to do this. He especially doesn't want to do this in front of the boys, tears starting to well up in the corners of his eyes. He thinks about transmuting the Homunculus' arm off, but doesn't for the same reason that he's not loudly complaining at this treatment. He doesn't want to attract his children's attention if it fails.

The Homunculus knows it. He can see it in his eyes. He's doing this because he's trying to prove to Hohenheim who is in control here, a punishment for a failure to come when he was called. Of course he was doing this in front of his boys, it was the only way he'd actually listen. The Homunculus' lips curl up into a smirk, coming in close to Hohenheim's face.

"You want this to stop, don't you?'

He nods, fingers tightening around the Homunculus' arm. He's starting to panic, and panic hard. The smirk grows wider, the Dwarf's thumb scraping over his front teeth.

"Then—"

He doesn't get to finish his sentence, a stone the size of a chicken's egg smashing into the side of the Dwarf's head, sending him reeling back. Hohenheim looks up to see his boys grinning, Alphonse leaning against a stick, Edward bouncing another rock in his hand.

"Hey, Old Man! You gunna just sit there like a lump or are we going to go home?"

He laughs at that, wiping the tears from his eyes and standing up. As he's walking towards them, Edward pitches the rock he's holding to Alphonse, who sends it whistling past Hohenheim's ear, the muffled thunk of it hitting it's target.

It's embarrassing to have to have been saved by the boys like this, but incredibly less so than whatever the Dwarf had planned to make him do. Alphonse takes a few more swings of the stick before tossing it behind him.

If he had been more clever, he might have stopped at that point and spat out a biting insult to the Dwarf. He's not, however. He's just tired. They collect their bags of food without a second glance, and they leave the park.

That was the last time he heard from the Homunculus. After they got home, he ends up talking to them about most everything. His desire to try to get Trisha back, the reason why they moved to central, more or less what has been going on. He neglects to mention a few things, mostly because he doesn't know the extent of himself.

That and he still doesn't know what he's doing here. Part of him wants to stay and dig deeper, to root out the last bits of everything. He's tired. After he's done talking, he fidgets, not sure what to do. It's Alphonse who breaks the silence.

"Me and Ed have been trying to get her back, too, Dad."

He smiles sheepishly, Ed grumbling to himself. He blinks over at them, tilting his head. Before he can ask, Alphonse decides to explain.

"We've been studying alchemy because it's what you do, but… You never seem to want to do it around us, so we didn't want to show you…."

"You're really slow and stuff. We just thought…"

"…If we could get mom back, we could go back home and live in our house again. It's okay here, but you're so sad all the time…"

"…Probably because you were letting that mean guy boss you around like that…"

"….But… If you been trying all this time to get her back, does that mean it's impossible?"

Hohenheim sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. He never thought that his boys would know enough to try to hide anything from him, but then again, he doesn't know them it seems. He must have thought he was being so clever doing this, coming here, working with the homunculus. He must have felt so smart. Of course his boys would be already working toward the same goal as he was.

"I don't know. Nothing I've studied indicates you can bring souls back from the dead. I thought that if anyone did, it would have been him. All he had for me was lies it seems. Lies and empty hopes."

The boys fall silent, chewing on this for a long moment. Edward shakes his head a little, looking up to his father.

"So, you said he wants to destroy everything. But… What does that mean for… You know, everyone?"

Hohenheim drops his head, and silence falls over them.

"So… It was mom. You were trading mom for everyone else."

He nods, only once. That's the conclusion he came to as well.

"Isn't there anything we can do to stop it? Anything at all? What about Winry—How could you have woken up beside us day after day, knowing that you were willingly letting everyone die?!"

"Brother."

It's Alphonse, putting his hands on Ed's shoulders.

"You said it yourself. You'd give anything to see her again. Can you really blame Dad for wanting to do the same?"

"But he's supposed to know better! He's an adult, he's supposed to know better."

Hohenheim sighs, not knowing what to say. He decides to go splash water on his face, washing of the smeared makeup from before. No use walking around with a dirty face. On his way back, he's distracted by the ticking of his gold watch from the bedroom, deciding to pick it up and flip it over a few times, just kind of playing with it. He also takes the book he accidently took from work, going back out to were the boys are talking.

He still doesn't have anything to say, and as soon as he comes into the room, the boys drop silent. He can't face them, not yet. He takes the moment to stare down at his, the golden dragon gleaming back at him. Oh, look. The front of the watch is cut out, he hadn't noticed, the watch face peaking through. The paw of the lion seems to be pointing to the ten symbol, but like this, it almost seems like an Xerxean letter. Reading it clockwise, the other numbers do the same thing, and it almost seems to form a word.

A cipher. His eyes widen and he falls down heavily into a chair, already flipping open the book, starting to work through it. By the time he starts writing, there's already paper and a pen for him, the boys having recognized that… Something was happening.

As each page is completed, the boys are on it, pouring over it despite not knowing the Xerxean their father is working with. As soon as they see a pattern however, they're laying them out s best they can, and when Hohenheim's done, he's looking through them as well. The floor is a mess, but it still doesn't make a lot of sense to him. More than it did before, but….

"Oh!"

Alphonse has got a hold of his right wrist, and is showing it to Edward. Before he can ask what's going on, the boys are busy at work again. He looks at his wrist, seeing the faint scar he's kept all these years, his slave brand. 23.

He looks, and he sees that they're matching up every instance of the Xerxean 23 that they can find, and when they step back, he sees it. It was possibly the most beautiful thing he has ever seen in his life, and the irony does not escape him.

It's the circle he had mocked in Lab 3.

It's the teleportation circle. it's modified from the one he saw in Lab 3, but as it is now, it seems it wasn't going to work.

Or rather, it worked too well.

Instead of sending Hohenheim to the location he was trying to go to, because he had already been there in another dimension, they switched spots. He rubs his chin, figuring that their timing had been off. He had placed some of his stone before going to bed two days ago, so when the other Hohenheim showed up, that one would already have been done. By the time that the mistake was figured out, he, the one currently with the kids, must have woken up and started moving.

So, that leaves the other Hohenheim lost somewhere. He figures that must be the case. He should probably get back, they should probably switch back…

"Dad, I don't understand."

Both the boys look confused, looking down at the circle.

"Yeah, I know. It's complicat—"

"If you were using this and then had to rediscover it, doesn't that mean that you're not really our dad?"

"No, dummy! He's our dad just a different dad… or something I guess…"

His lips twitch upwards, and he sighs fondly. There wasn't getting anything past these boys was there. He nods, taking their hands for a second.

"Yeah. Or something is the right way to describe it. I guess you can say that I was the version who decided to stop the Homunculus. …." His smile drops, and for a moment, he remembers how awful it was waking up by the fire alone. "I abandoned you boys to try to do it. I'm so sorry…"

They look at him for a long moment, before hugging him, staring up at him.

"s'not us you should be saying sorry to… But…"

"If anything, we're the ones who know you make bad decisions, for… Kind of the right reasons?"

"..Yeah, I guess that's a way to put it. You gotta go back, huh? And finish it."

He nods, bending down to scoop them both up into a hug, sighing for a long moment. He takes the clip out of his hair, pressing it into the boy's hand.

"When he comes back, your real dad, you give him that and you tell him everything okay? You tell him how brave and strong and smart you guys are, and you tell him that if he isn't proud of you, then, from me, you tell him that he doesn't deserve you."

He smiles at them for a long moment, and they smile back. They give him a kiss each, and he gives them one each in return.

He stands up, he stares at the circle, he smiles, and then he presses his hands to his chest. The crackle of red alchemical energy fills the air, and he feels himself separating from his body for a moment, the feeling of having two of himself like copper on his tongue.

When his eyes open, the day is already fading into night, his suitcase open beside him. He inspects it for a moment, not noticing any change. He opens the journal in his pocket, seeing a doodle in it. It's of the boys, grinning out at him, their clips that they had gotten proudly in their hair.

He closes it, tucking the book away into his pocket, packing up his stuff.

Tomorrow was another day.

A brighter day.


End file.
